So I've been reading about Asperger's syndrome lately. I'm pretty sure that I have it and it's taking a lot of willpower to not go research-crazy (because self-diagnosis can lead to sketchy Real Life details later on. Hypochondriac, remember?). Still, I've learned quite a bit and I wanted to bring something up.
I am very good at bullshitting. I am not good at lying. Yes, there is a difference.
For example, if you ask if I did or didn't do something I was/wasn't supposed to, I will always tell the truth, even if it isn't in my best interests. This isn't only because I'm against lying. It's because I really can't lie in the first place. I'd fix my eyes on something boring, try to hide my face, and wonder if my skin was changing color, trying all the while to remember if the person I'm talking to is good at detecting lies. I get so hung up on them buying it, I end up giving myself away.
Bullshitting, on the other hand, is like telling a story. Sure, that's what lying is too, but when I bullshit it's to entertain. I love telling kids about the magical properties of coconuts, how to befriend fire imps, and just what the troll-to-ogre ratio is in the monster-hunting business.*
If people don't believe me, that's totally fine. It was done in jest and I lost nothing. I can bullshit all I want.
The trouble is, I've become really good at pretending to be other people.
I love characters. There's nothing quite as fun as slipping into an act, to take on alien characteristics.
I loved Heath Ledger's performance in Batman: Dark Knight so much, I adopted his speech patterns for weeks. I was so enthralled by Abed Nadir from Community that I still say 'Cool. Cool cool cool.' compulsively. And don't even get me started on the 10th Doctor.
It's all fine when it's a recognizable character. It only gets weird when your moods suddenly have character detached from you.
For example, yesterday at work I was putting books on a cart, talking to the new librarian. I usually have a meandering sort of tone, as if I'm somewhere else entirely. I also tend to mumble a lot and giggle at my own jokes. So I was talking normally, when suddenly our landlord walked up to me.
I straightened a bit and smiled. "Hey!" I said, raising my eyebrows and twisting my neck a little in a surprised manner. "How're you doing?"
"Not bad." He said, returning the smile. "How are you?"
"I'm good." I said, although I wasn't really feeling fantastic.
"That's great." He said. "I'm gonna look at some books. You take care now."
"All right, you too." I said in my most pleasant voice. I continued to sort books, holding a happy smile until he was well out of sight. Then I dropped the face, relaxed my shoulders, and went back to sorting.
What I did was insincere in the moment, but it wasn't meant to trick him. He would be more comfortable if I reacted really positively in that moment, so I did. It was a pleasant encounter and I think we both befitted from it in a small way.
And it isn't like every time I do this, I'm faking. My 'happy and polite' mode is a little amped up at work, but I'm sure that anyone who knows me has seen it. Usually I actually am really happy to see you. It just takes a tad bit more effort to really express it (or, sometimes, regulate it. Some people are put off by my 'mad loon' grin.).
Still, it might creep other people out to see me shift modes, as I'm sure the new librarian did. Sometimes when I'm in a setting where I have to be in 'happy, polite' mode all day, it really becomes taxing. Being on guard all the time, remembering which face you should be making, or what topic would be too inappropriate to bring up... It's really tiring.
SO if you see my face suddenly change after talking to someone, you'll know why.
*No, seriously. I told my neighbor kids about this. It was awesome.
**Actually, he isn't our landlord. I've forgotten the correct term. It doesn't really matter right now, though.
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You rock socks.